first things tend to last, my dear
by CharlotteJeanF
Summary: A love story like Malec is too huge for a summary.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**I hope you guys had an amazing New Year's Eve and are just as hopeful and positive about 2014 as I am. New year, new chances, right?**

**I decided I'd start this year in the only right way there is: with a Malec fanfiction! **

**I have been horribly absent these past few months and I want to apologize for that, really, it was just that school and some personal issues took up most of my time. I'm sorry.**

**But now I am back, and I hope you are going to enjoy this thing as much as I did writing it.**

**I also know that I mostly write about gay couples but hey, gay is awesome. Some gay vibes a day make happy ;-)**

**Don't you worry guys, I already have some other ideas, non-gay and stuff. I just need to figure them out and think them through and things. **

**So, enjoy my little New Year's present and have an awesome time!**

**As usual, I don't own any of these characters, or the world, and so on. All rights belong to their rightful owners.**

**All I own is my imagination, and this is one of the things that my mind came up with.**

**It is set in City of Ashes, like the last Malec fic I wrote (behind the glitter, i am just another heartbroken guy looking for love; it would be awesome if you could check that out, too!), but it's an entirely different story. It's written from Alec's PoV and it's going to be a longer story, one of those huge-ass ones with sixtythousand chapters and stuff. The language is a bit worse than in my other fics (I am using insults and swear words more freely now) and there is possible smut coming (don't read it if you don't like it. If you do and it's bad, given the fact I never tried smut before, I apologize in advance). I don't know how long this fic will be, I'll just go with the flow and look how you guys like it and what ideas I have and, and, and. **

**You know what would be awesome? Reviews! Don't bother commenting, please, it makes me happy!**

**Have fun! I love all of you!**

**Cheers**

**Xx**

**first things tend to last, my dear**

_My name is Alec Lightwood. I am eighteen years old. I am a Shadowhunter. And I am in love with a warlock called Magnus Bane._

I replay these words in my head, over and over, again and again, trying to keep myself from freaking out. My mind can't wrap around those sentences, especially the last one, as if they're too big to understand. Not that I am slow or something, but this is huge. And it freaks me out.

I am sitting on a purple velvet couch, my hands on my knees, grabbing them so tightly my knuckles stand out whitely.

I am Alexander Gideon Lightwood. Everybody calls me Alec. My parents are Maryse and Robert Lightwood and I have a sister called Isabelle. We live in the Institute in New York City.

I am eighteen years old.

I am a Shadowhunter. I hunt demons and protect the mundane world from all the bad things they don't even know exist out there. I am not terrified of fighting anymore. My parabatai's name is Jace Lightwood. I used to be in love with him.

But that doesn't make me gay. It's just an ... incident.

People tend to fall for those they can't have. It's not a new thing to the world.

I am in love with a warlock called Magnus Bane.

I am in love with a warlock called Magnus Bane.

I am in love with -

„Here you go," said warlock interrupts my thoughts, handing me a pink cup with green and golden dots on it. I try not to think about how gay that cup looks and that I am far too manly for something like that and take it from him, avoiding any contact. I can't touch him or I'll just snog the shit out of him.

Somehow choking on my own thoughts, I force myself to smile and mumble a „Thanks," before taking a long sip of coffee.

Magnus sits down right next to me, a little too close, and smiles radiantly. „My pleasure," he says, almost in a purr, and I try not to choke again.

„So, Alec... What do you do, I mean, besides saving the world from the evil, evil things and playing the hero and blah-blah-blah? What are you interested in?" he asks, and I decide to take another long sip. And another one. And another. And -

oh shit. My cup is empty.

„Thirsty, hm?" Magnus smiles, and damn that smile turns me on so much. Unfortunately, I feel the need to be polite and my brain is too busy thinking about his delicious pink lips to make up a decent answer, so I just nod and stare into the rest of sugar on the bottom of my cup, trying to disappear to a place far, far from here. Far from the gay warlock with the cat eyes and the bordeaux satin pants that end mid-thigh and the pink cups with green and golden dots on them.

I work through my brain, trying to find a reasonable answer before I blurt out anything stupid. I am dangerously close to telling him that I have found warlocks with cat eyes and spiky black hair much to my liking.

„Ducks," I say finally, relieved to say something that's no where near any inappropiate feelings.

„Ducks? Like, uh, _real _ducks or... or rubber ducks?" Magnus asks, clearly confused. I try not to smile and go for the weirdest answer, nine hundred percent sure that he won't be able to start a conversation about rubber ducks. „Rubber ducks, of course," I say, satisfied with myself.

But then his face lights up. „Oh!" he says, „Did you know that I have about 400 rubber ducks myself? 366, to be exact." I can't help but stare at him, sitting with his steaming coffee cup in his hands, beaming proudly.

„Um," I say, „R-really?"

„Really," he answers, smiling even wider. „I used to collect them, you know. I can show you some, if you want me to. They're in the bathroom."

_The bathroom. _A room with a shower and a bath tub in which you can do dirty things to certain warlocks and -

I pinch my thigh, hard, trying to distract myself. I can't think about such things with him next to me, stretching out his long, long legs and damn – my body already reacts to him, down south. The knowledge that if I stay any longer, I'll do something I'll regret, sinks in, not quite fast enough. My mouth has already answered. „I'd love to go to the shower with you."

He cocks an eyebrow, smirks, and gets up. „Fine then," he says, and holds out his hand to me.

_Fuck_. I bite down on my tongue, hard enough to taste blood, and then force myself to get up slowly, ignoring the hand he offers me. I know it's rude, but I can't help it. Touching him is too dangerous.

But Magnus is Magnus and I should've known that you can't ignore something he wants; he takes my hand anyway, pulling me to the bathroom with him.

I am too distracted by his warm skin meeting mine, intensifying every one of my senses, so I only notice we're already there when he closes the door behind us and takes his hand out of mine. He locks the door, turning to me with a smirk, his hands already unbuttoning his shirt. I swallow hard.

„So," I manage to get out, voice quivering only slightly, „Where are those ducks?"

„I can show you something much better," he says, his voice deep and seductive. I can't help but feel goosebumps growing on my arms. Magnus notices it too, of course he does; almost torturingly slowly, he lets his shirt fall to the floor, grabs me by the wrists and pulls me close. „Did you know I always had a thing for blue eyes, Alexander Lightwood?", he asks, my name rolling off his tongue in a way that makes me shiver, and I can feel his breath on my face. I shake my head, unable to look or pull away, like I should have.

„Well, now you do," he says and leans in a little bit more, close enough that I can feel his lips moving when he talks.

„Yours have had me from the first second," he says, and before I am able to react or he can say more, or bodies are pressed together and we kiss, hard.

My arms go around his waist and his hands slip into my hair and god, _he feels so good. _

He runs his tongue over my lower lip and I let him in, wanting to taste him better, wanting him closer, wanting _more. _

Our tongues meet and I let out a moan involuntarily.

The noise startles me out of my trance and I pull away, shoving him with enough force to cause him to stumble and almost fall backwards. I can't feel bad because of that; right now, I am too busy panicking, wiping my lips with the back of my hand as if I could wipe that kiss away. That amazing kiss.

_No!,_ I mentally shout, slapping my mental self in the face, _Don't think like that! You didn't like it! You don't want to make out with guys! You're not gay! _

„Alec," Magnus says, his voice surprisingly calm, given the fact we just made out while he was shirtless and I then broke our kiss all of a sudden and pushed him.

„Don't talk to me!" I yell, fumbling for the door knob and finally managing to unlock and open it. Without another look back, I race out of the apartment, down the stairs and out into the evening, as if I could run from everything that happened. I hear Magnus call out for me, but I just continue running as fast as I can.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey!**

**So this was a lot faster than I thought. I'm a bit surprised myself that I'm able to update this soon, but I had to do some school work, so I decided I might as well finish this chapter and upload it, too. **

**It's not as long as the first one, but the next one is gonna be much, much longer, promise! This will be kind of important to the story later on. **

**Ok, so here we go! Enjoy and it would be especially lovely if you'd leave a nice review for me!  
You can also tell me some events you want to happen in this story, I am always open for requests! (If I use your idea, I'll give you credits, of course.) **

**So yeah, just read, enjoy, comment, stay lovely and so on!**

**Cheers!**

**Xx**

**chapter 2**

It takes me four hours, six beers and two night clubs to gather up enough strength to go back to the apartment. And even then, it is rather unwillingly.

But after being thrown out of a club for hitting a guy right in his stupid face because he kind of tried to flirt with me I really don't have a choice. It's not like I have anywhere else to go, and the twenty dollars I found in my pocket are long gone now.

I walk slowly, my fists slammed into the pocket of my hoodie, kicking against a wall here and there. The barkeeper didn't have to throw me out, really. I mean, it wasn't exactly my fault that that guy thought he could hit on me. I am _not _gay. Therefore, I don't like being hit on by guys. And I _had _to punch him, really. He wouldn't leave me alone. I couldn't have known that his nose would break that easily. Stupid mundies.

I mutter another swear word or two, turning a corner and finding myself in a dark, empty alley. I don't know why, but this place gives me chills. And not the good kind.

I swallow and continue walking, a little faster now, wishing I hadn't run out without my mobile. It would've been so nice to just call Izzy right now and have her drive me back in her lovely, warm car.  
I think of the heater in her car, suppressing a shiver. The temperature drops faster than I thought. I hug myself awkwardly, wishing I'd brought a jacket, and try to convince my body that there's no need to grow cold. I turn another corner, into a darker alley, and notice I am lost. I have no clue where I am.

„Fuck," I mutter, looking around for anything to orientate myself with. Nothing but rats and a bit of filthy garbage. Not even trying to hide my annoyance, I keep on walking, kicking against an empty garbage can on the way. It rolls across the floor and hits the wall, hard. The noise is loud in the almost silent night.

Luckily, I see a group of guys in the distance, and I start to walk towards them, feeling relieved. The feeling of relief wears off as soon as I reach them. They are tall, muscular, just as filthy as the surroundings, and obviously drunk. Before I am able to back off silently, the biggest one turns around and looks at me. I freeze in my tracks and can't help but stare.

There are six of them, and each guy is at least five inches taller than me. They are all well-trained and seem like those sort of guys you stab with a knife and they wipe it off as if it were an annoying fly. The biggest looks at me, and says: „Hey, you! What do you think you're doing here?"

His voice is thick, of alcohol or an accent, I can't tell, and his small eyes have a bit of trouble focusing on me. I decide not to answer and back off slowly.  
„Answer!" one of them shouts. He's got a hoarse voice and a filthy beard. I can't help but jump, completely taken by suprise. The third one, a guy with short red hair and gross teeth, starts laughing. I mentally curse myself; I can't let them know they scare the shit out of me, or I'm as good as dead. When number four, the probably thinnest of them all, takes a step in my direction, I take two back. The fifth one, a guy so full of piercings it looks like his whole face is made of metal, starts to grin, and I feel a shiver running down my spine. It's the kind of smile someone would wear who'd love to watch kittens play with each other before they would drown them in a river.

Number six, who has a large scar across his face, spits onto the floor and looks at me. „What are you doing here, fag?" he says, very slowly. I begin to sweat.

„N-Nothing," I stutter, hating myself for sounding so scared.

The redhead starts laughing again, watching me like a shark would watch a piece of fresh meat, and then I turn around and start running.

I don't need a rune for Improved Hearing to know they are coming after me, and I also know that if they catch me, I am done. I won't be able to beat them all, without any weapons. Not six of them. I could've handled one, or two maybe, but not six.

I run and run and don't stop, till my lungs are screaming for air and I can feel my blood pound through my head.

Even when I'm close to fainting, I don't stop. I force my body to go on, and then, when I am already sure I have lost, they'll get and kill me, I burst out of another dark alley and run right onto a street with full-on late night traffic. After being nearly run over by a truck, I jump onto the sidewalk, finally knowing where I am. And yet, I don't stop running until I reach the apartment block Magnus lives in, hell, I don't even stop until I have reached his door.

I knock, not even bothering to hesitate, and try to catch my breath. My lungs hurt like crap and my legs burn like they had just been set on fire. My feet feel like I have been running barefoot through a field of glass splinters and my head is spinning. When Magnus finally opens the door, my eyes can't even focus on him.

„Decided to come back and apologize, or what?" he says coolly. I can't answer, bending forward, resting my hands on my knees for support, trying not to break down.

„If the Clave finds out you were gone, I will get into serious trouble. Hell, if the Clave finds out you and Jace have traded we will all get into serious trouble! I hope you are aware of the fact that you'll have to explain this to me, and, if you don't come in soon, to the Council as well!" he snaps, and then he finally looks at me. _Really _looks at me.

„My god," I can hear him breathe out, „What happened?"

I just shake my head and hold one hand up, unable to explain yet. Thankfully, he doesn't ask or shout at me anymore. He just pulls me inside and makes me sit on the couch I have been sitting on not so long ago. It's the same material and size, but now it is dark blue.

„Breathe, just breathe," Magnus says, handing me a glass of water. I force it down my throat and try to breathe. After a few painful minutes, I am finally able to speak again, and so I croak out: „I – am sorry."

„Calm down, Alec," he says, and looks me in the eye. „You don't need to talk right now. Explain tomorrow. Go take a shower, and then sleep. We can talk later."

I nod, get up and walk into my room, the one Jace should be occupying now. If Jace hadn't talked me into trading with him, none of this would've happened. I curse him, grab a pink, fluffy towel and make my way to the bathroom.

I pause on the threshold, wanting to say something to Magnus, who sits on the couch, staring at the wall, but when I can't think of anything good to say, I just turn around and enter the bathroom. I grimace thinking of what happened in here earlier, but then I look at my sweaty, dirty self in the mirror and lock the door, shrugging off my clothes and stepping under the warm water. I wash away all the filth, and sweat, and all that remains are the memories of this evening and a tight knot in my stomach when I think of Magnus.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi people!**

**I apologize so much for the long suspense again. I knew I said I will better myself with updating, but really, it's kinda hard at the moment. **

**I was just so busy these past days, having many major exams coming up plus dealing with things such as a major mental breakdown, physical injuries and a writer's block. But now I am getting better and I thought it wouldn't be fair to let you all wait so long for this next chapter just because I am having some troubled times right now. That's why I'm uploading this now.**

**I hope I'll be able to update sooner from now on, despite everything going on. Cross your fingers it'll work.**

**Also, I know I said this'll be a story from Alec's POV, but I decided to switch POVs throughout the whole thing, just as it happens to fit in. I hope you are okay with that.**

**If you want to, you can go check out my other works on here or on wattpad (I am really crap at updating over there, worse than here, trust me. It's horrible.)or just take a look at my other sites:**

**Wattpad: CharlotteJeanFlamel**

**Twitter (personal account): CharlotteJeanF**

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**WeHeartIt: Charlotte J. Flamel**

**It would be lovely if you'd check and follow/subscribe/etc.:)**

**As usual, read, comment, favorite, spread the word and enjoy!**

**Cheers!**

**Xx**

**chapter 3**

_Magnus's POV_

I sit and stare. That is all I do. I sit on my couch and stare at Alec while he forces down a glass of water, trying to catch his breath desperately. I sit and stare at the wall as soon as he leaves to collect a towel and clean clothes from his room. I sit and stare at the wall while he showers, and I sit and stare at the wall when he goes to sleep. I don't answer when he mumbles „Goodnight." I don't pet Chairman Meow when he meows at me accusingly. I don't do anything but sit and stare.

And all the while I think. I wonder about what happened to him, of course I do. I try to imagine where he went and what events have taken place that he came back all sweaty and dusty. I think of what was going on between us earlier. I think of what will happen in the future. And I wonder why he denies his feelings for me.

I know they're there. He wouldn't have kissed me back if he didn't like it. But what keeps him from acting on his feelings now? He knows I'm bisexual. He knows how much I love blue eyes and dark hair. He now also knows I like him.

He could get me to do anything, really, and yet, he doesn't do anything. He pushed me away and there's this feeling in my stomach telling me he won't change his attitude that easily.

Maybe it's because he's afraid. That's okay, most guys I have had were a bit scared. There's something about that naive confusion that I find rather appealing.

Maybe it's because he's a Shadowhunter and those goddamn bastards aren't gay. That just never happens. I should know, I've had to bear with these self-claimed saints for an unbelievably long time. I know how they roll.

And maybe it's because he wants to take things slow. I admit, almost jumping him in my bathroom probably wasn't the best way to start out. But I couldn't help it. He is so sexy when he talks crap, and he did a shitload of talking about damn rubber ducks. No one gives a fuck about rubber ducks. And the fact I used to collect them for a long time doesn't change that statement in the tiniest bit.

I am still sitting, staring at the wall and trying to figure out things my undoubtedly brilliant mind can't quite wrap around when the sun comes up, sending warm, bright sunbeams creeping through my windows and up my legs.

I haven't moved when his door opens and he walks out, yawning. I try not to stare at his muscles when he stretches and the hem of his shirt lifts a teeny bit. It doesn't even reveal much, but it is enough to assure certain parts of my body that I do like him, an awful lot. He's still in his pajamas, wearing a white shirt and black flannel pants which are dangerously low on his hips. With all my willpower I tear my gaze away from him and look at the wall instead.

_Rubber ducks, rubber ducks, rubber ducks, _I think, trying to cool down. There's nothing in this world that's as unattractive as rubber ducks.

„Morning," Alec says, and dang his morning voice is freaking sexy. I try not to focus on the husky, sleepy sound but on the hesitant tone instead.

„Hello," I say, my voice not giving away any emotion. I don't know why, but I feel defensive. I can't afford him coming along with these disturbing blue eyes and the sinful long legs, mixing up my feelings like a whirlwind and shaking up my whole world down to it's very last fundament, just to ignore me later. I can't afford having my heart broken. It may be the last straw. I fear I have been broken one too many times.

„We... wanted to talk?" he states, making it sound like a question. I nod and continue staring at the wall while he sits down opposite of me, lacing his fingers in his lap nervously. I can tell he's shaken up, but so am I.

„Magnus," he says, sounding so vulnerable I almost jump up to give him a comforting hug. „See, I – I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that."

„Yeah, you shouldn't have," I say coolly, still refusing to make eye contact.

„I am – confused, I guess that's the right way to put it. I never thought I was going to – to kiss someone like ... like you." He stumbles over his words, nervous, and I can't help but think it's cute. Damn those blue eyes.  
„But I didn't mean to hurt you. Really, I just – I guess I need a bit of time. I am a Shadowhunter. We – well, it's hard for our society to accept – accept ... unusual love."  
_That's also a way to put it_, I think bitterly, _though I feel like „stuck-up, closed-minded, old-fashioned, intolerant jerks" would be the more appropiate term to describe these wanna-be angels. _But I don't say anything; I want him to continue talking, if only for the mere pleasure of hearing his voice.

„I ... ask you to give me a bit of time. Just take things slow, you know? Because," he takes a deep breath then, „I think I like you Magnus, and that's not easy for me. I know it might not be easy for you, either, but I ask you to go easy on me. We can try this out, I guess, look if it – if it works, but I need to take it all slow."

Then, and only then do I look at him. He looks so young, so vulnerable it nearly breaks my heart. He really means it. And that's when all my walls tumble down.

„Come here," I say softly, patting the spot next to me on the now canary couch. He falters, for the matter of a second only, but long enough for me to notice. I sigh, but eventually he gets up and moves, sitting down next to me. I don't kiss him like I want to. I don't even touch him. All I do is look at him, and then I tell him – well, not quite the whole truth, but bits of it. The bits that matter. He doesn't need to know just yet that I may not even believe in what I say, or that I feel wary from going through it all too many times. He just needs to believe me.

„Alec, I have lived through several hundred years. I have seen so many things you wouldn't even dare to dream of. I have seen people die and I have seen people love. I learned to hate and I learned to love again. I opened up and I got my heart broken, and then I opened up again because it's a circle I didn't wanna break. I got broken and fixed, again and again and again, and maybe that's my destiny, to be broken and fixed for all eternity. Maybe it is what I was born for.

And one day, you may understand what I am saying now. You will know what „taking things slow" does to people. What it does to _me_. You will know what waiting does. You will have learned to love and you will have been broken. And you will learn to love over and over again. Because out of all the things I learned, this is the most important: love is the first emotion a human being knows. And first things, as less as you might like that, do tend to overlast everything else. Whatever happens, you'll always come back to love, and whatever you may lose, when it all comes down to nothing, love is the one thing that will be there in the end.

I have loved many times, and I have been loved many times, but I have to say that even if I thought it wouldn't be possible, you may be able to show me a new way of loving someone. So please, let me show you new ways of loving, too. No matter how long it will take you."

He looks at me, and I am not entirely sure if it's a trick of the light or if there are actual tears in his eyes. Either way, his voice his thick when he says: „Really?"

I chuckle and tell him the truth: „I have waited through more than seven hundred years to meet someone like you. I might as well wait a little longer."

His face lights up then, and before I know what's happening, he pulls me in for a hug. „Thank you," he whispers into my ear, even if I don't know what he's thanking me for. But I don't care, as long as his arms stay around my waist.

Unfortunately, the moment passes, like moments always do, causing him to let go far too soon. We look at each other for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. I say: „Will you tell me what happened last night?", causing that adorable half-smile to fall off his face. He sighs, leaning back against the lemon green cushion. It's the first time since he came here that I see him relax.

„Fine, here we go," he mutters to himself, and then tells me a story that makes my blood boil with rage.

_Alec's POV_

The room is filled with silence when I finish my story. I look at Magnus, his expression unreadable. Somehow that makes me more nervous than if he were shouting.

„Well," he finally says, „that's quite a thing."

I don't know how to reply to that; I was terrified, I got chased, heck, I was certain I'd die for at least thirty minutes. Well, I almost died, running infront of that stupid mundane truck. Calling it „quite a thing" seems a bit like an understatement to me.

„Looks like you gotta make sure to stay away from that district till we know more about those guys. If you meet them again, make sure to contact me _as soon as possible,_ got it?" he says, getting up. I nod, watching him fetch a dark green velvet coat, his keys and a mobile that seems too fancy for him in a grotesque way. He pulls the coat on over his bordeaux shorts, runs his hands through his hair in front of the mirror once and turns to look at me expectantly. „You coming?" he says.

„Where are we going?" I ask, confused, but get up anyway.

„I'm taking you out for breakfast," he answers, opening the door to his flat. I hesitate, then nod, tell him to give me a sec and almost run into my room, changing into a pair of jeans and a black shirt quickly. I shrug on my worn out leather jacket while joining him, feeling a little underdressed. But all thoughts about my outfit are wiped out immediately when he takes my hand and steps out with me into the sunlight as if it is the most normal thing in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Bloody hell.**

**It's almost been a whole _month _since I last updated. Sue me! Ugh. I am so sorry. I am a horrible person for letting you hang on like this. **

**The thing is, I just didn't have any ideas for this story. It was like I had a huge, general writer's block first, like I already mentioned last chapter (you'd know if you actually read this and don't just skip to the good part =P) but then it kinda faded away and I got back into writing. But no matter how hard I tried, the block remained for this story. I couldn't help it. So, I am happy to say that today, while rereading the last chapter, I just kinda got back into it. The feel has me back. Thank god.**

**I hope you aren't too angry at me for always taking so long. I'm just trying to do the best I can, and I don't like the idea of giving you something shitty only for the sake of uploading. I think this story might be worth more than that. I will pay much more attention to this now, because I feel like this can develop into something really, really good. Please don't hate me for taking my time, for experimenting a lot, for hopping between the POVs and for changing moods often and quickly. This story is kind of like my note pad. What I feel, I write. Sorry if this is a little messed up.**

**But yeah, I'll stop with the rambling now. I hope this chapter makes it up to you for not updating in forever.**

**If it does, leave a kind comment or drop a PM, favorite and share! It would make me very happy.**

**Love you!**

**Cheers**

**Xx**

**p.s. Forgive me if my description of New York is completely incorrect, I have never been there (though I so wanna go one day and also hope I will!). Please don't be too harsh on me. This is a piece of fiction, after all. **

**If you have been to New York, or if you live there, and my description happens to not fit at all, just imagine New York the way you know it. Don't let my lack of knowledge ruin the story for you.**

**(also, sorry for the horribly long A/N. I'll do a shorter one next time :D)**

_Alec's POV_

I try not to think too much while Magnus leads me through several parts of New York, parts I have never been to but like instantly hence their friendly charm and seemingly kind people. We pass two-story houses, painted in all kinds of cheerishing colors, ranging from varying shades of green and yellow to blue or orange and, in some cases, even pink. They all have white doors and large windows, perfectly styled front lawns and nicely painted fences, ligned with flowers so bright it almost looks unreal.

This is a part that doesn't quite fit with the New York I know, the shabby, dark places, the dirt-covered alleys, the run-down houses. Or the business part full of modern buildings and skyscrapers so high you almost have to break your neck to look up at them. We can see the skyscrapers in the distance, though, glittering and reflecting the sunlight, a permanent reminder that this, in fact, is still a city.

The sunshine warms up my face quickly, making me smile. I have always loved the sun. Magnus gives my hand a gentle squeeze and I can't help but chuckle when I realize how surreal this whole thing actually is.

My parents would probably have a heart attack if they'd see me now, walking around a surburb of New York I've never been to on my way to get breakfast with a warlock who not only sports glitter, spiky hair and cat eyes, but also wears a green velvet coat over bordeaux shorts and is, in fact, currently holding my hand. In _publicity._

I, too, find it hard to believe this is real, and when I look at Magnus to find out he is not only real, but also currently looking at me quizzically, I burst out laughing. It isn't even funny, yet I laugh for a good while, making me clutch my stomach with my free hand, bending over and lurch on the sidewalk dangerously. Magnus cocks an eyebrow at my probably irrational behaviour, which only makes me laugh more.

I have just calmed down when we come to a halt, me gasping for air and letting out a few last chuckles, him looking at me with his eyebrow nearly reaching his hairline.

„Do I wanna know?" he asks, surprisingly calm.

„Just thinking this is surreal, is all" I answer, smiling at him dumbfoundedly. God, he must think I'm a mental idiot by now.

But instead of sending me straight to the next loony bin, he just grins, shakes his head and lets go of my hand. I can't help but pout a little. His fingers felt good in mine.

„So," I say after a few silence-filled seconds, „Are we just going to stand here or actually go to whatever place you're taking me?"

„We're already there," he chuckles, pointing to our left, and when my eyes follow his finger they find a cute little café with a sign reading _The Glittery Bow. _I snort when I notice the words are painted in pink and are crowned by a golden bow which is, in fact, sparkling more than my mom's diamond earrings.

„Don't you dare say anything, they have the best pancakes in the world! Plus it's cute," Magnus snaps before I even open my mouth, grabbing my wrist and dragging me in with him. I smile and follow him willingly, shaking my head slightly. I should've known he'd take me to a place like this. Spending time with Magnus Bane has never ended up being easy before. Or not glittery, for that matter.

We enter the warm, friendly room, which is filled with the low, happy chatter of other customers and some new pop song faintly playing in the back. While Magnus strolls over to the counter to talk to the waitress, I take a look around. It _is _cute, to be honest. The walls are painted yellow and plastered with brightly colored posters. The counter is pink, and so are the round tables and chairs in the right part of the room, as well as the leather benches in the left. It smells like green apples and vanilla, a surprisingly nice combination, and I feel relaxed immediately. This is a good place. Okay, I may not be able to deny I'm gay anymore.

I snap out of my thoughts when Magnus walks back up to me, pointing to a secluded table right next to the window in the far right part of the room. My legs walk over there on their own accord, my mind only following slowly. It is still fighting with the thought I _might _be gay.

Magnus pulls one of the chairs out for me, smiling, and I find myself blushing at the gesture. _Stupid_, I curse myself mentally, hating the fact I can't stop my cheeks from growing even redder when he smiles just a tad bit wider and takes my jacket from me. It's a casual gesture, kind of nice, actually, but I still feel like a stupid, love-struck schoolgirl on a date. He sits down opposite of me, folding his hands, and before I am able to do something stupid like actually _grab them and hold on to him_, I hiss: „Just for your information, I am _so _not going to be your damned damsel in distress."

He throws his head back and laughs, making me blush again. Then he looks at me, a cocky spark in his eyes, and says: „_Sure. _Whatever you say, then."

The way he says it makes it clear he didn't take me seriously, and I can't decide whether to be angry or not. But then he reaches out, pulling a loose thread from the collar of my shirt, and I look into his eyes and forget it all.

_Damn those eyes._ They are fascinating, really; not only for the fact that they are not human, but actual cat eyes, but also for the sheer beauty of their green color and the way his long, dark lashes fan around them gracefully. The thing that makes them so fascinating to me particularly is the immense feeling of joy that rushes through me when I look into them. It is gigantic, how a simple look of him gives me goosebumps in all the right ways.

He clears his throat, and I stop my thoughts right there, blushing _again _at the thought that I've been staring at him far too long. I must seem like a creep.

He clears his throat again, a questioning look on his face, and only then do I notice the waitress waiting next to our table. They are both looking at me, Magnus with an amused expression, the waitress – _Margareth_ reads her name tag – slightly annoyed. I blink, confused, and clear my throat. „Uh, what?"

Magnus chuckles, and I glare at him automatically. Margareth huffs and says, slowly and very clearly, as if I'm dumb or slow or something, „I said, _And for you, Sir_? Your date here has long since ordered, and if you don't do the same, I will just return to the kitchen and leave you to your business. Some people actually have work to do, you know."

„I...uh," I stutter, taken aback. „I – I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to leave you waiting. I was just ... distracted."

„Yeah, I could tell _that_," she says, giving Magnus a meaningful glance, causing him to smirk.

I am too busy smiling at her apologetically to actually give him the evils again, but I'll save that for later. „I'd like a Latte Macchiato, please," I say, watching her scribble it down on her pink notepad, and just when she's turned around and started to walk away I call: „And he is _not _my date!"

„Yeah, whatever" she laughs, disappearing into the kitchen. I glare angrily at the door that just swung shut behind her and turn to face Magnus again. He doesn't seem upset or angry, like I'd hoped he'd be; I'm not even sure if he actually heard what I said.  
Instead, he's just studying me, his fingertips put together in a thoughtful manner, as if I'm an interesting painting and he's trying to figure out for how much he could sell me.

„_What?!_" I finally spit, getting annoyed by his green, steady gaze.

I'm taken aback when he says: „You do that a whole freaking lot. Glaring, I mean."

I blink at him, surprised, and finally stutter out: „I – well, it's just... I don't!" The last word is accompanied by yet another angry glance cast at him.

He smirks, and I curse him for looking so damn sexy, and then I curse myself for thinking something like that about a guy _because guys aren't freaking sexy_, and then before I get lost in my messy thoughts again he says: „And blushing. You do that a lot, too. Blushing and glaring."

„I – no! That's not true!" I almost shout, noticing that to my personal horror, I am _blushing yet again._

„See, you're doing it again, simultaneously even," he says, breaking into a wide smile. I curse him and he just laughs softly. Before I can actually stab him with the fork that's lying on the table like a perfectly presented weapon, our food arrives. My stomach growls loudly when the smell of coffee and scrambled eggs with bacon fills my stomach. But when Margareth has set our orders down, a plate full of food and a large coffee for Magnus and a freaking Latte Macchiato for me, I let out a row of swear words under my breath. I forgot to order food.

Magnus takes me out to a cute little café to have a large nice breakfast and _I legit forget to order said breakfast. _

I let out another two or three curses, looking up only to find Magnus grinning at me.

„Aw, darling, forgot to order food? Shall I get you something?" he says, in a way that is much too nice and caring for my liking. He sounds so genuine that I can't be angry at him, so instead I am angry at myself for not being angry at him. Jeez, I must be tired. My thoughts make literally no sense.

„No," I press out. I don't want him to treat me like some girl.

„You wanna try mine?" he says, holding out his fork almost teasingly. Although I nearly faint at the delicious sight – and smell – of the golden-brown eggs and the crispy bacon, I shake my head no. I am _so_ not going to take something of his, much less eat from the same fork that will touch his amazing lips soon. And his tongue. Oh god, the tongue.

I feel my cheeks heat up at the thought of what his tongue could do to me, and he laughs loudly, either because I am blushing again or because he knows. I hope for my own sake it's the former.

„C'mon, love, I don't want you to starve," he says, lowering the fork and waving to the girl behind the counter, the one he's been talking to earlier. „Hey, Lacey? A batch of pancakes with double maple syrup please, darling here forgot to order."

The girl laughs, gives us a thumbs-up and disappears through the same door Margareth used earlier. I watch her leave, the way she flips her dark brown curls and how her full hips swing gently from side to side while she walks, and every other normal teenage boy would be laying on the table drooling at her backside by now, but then again every other normal teenage boy wouldn't be in an extremely girly café to have breakfast with another man _who calls him darling_.

„What's up with you, darling? You seem so tense," Magnus says, and I look at him dumbfoundedly. He smiles and then reaches out, smoothing the crinkles that formed on my forehead while I was thinking. A shiver runs down my spine when his warm palm connects with my skin, and I pull back quickly.

„Stop calling me darling, will you?" I grumble, trying not to show any sign of the effect he has on me.

„Your wish is my command, _angel_," he smirks, making me gnash my teeth with adoration, embarrassment and anger all at the same time. He doesn't seem to ever take me seriously.

I have just prepared a sassy respond when Lacey arrives, setting down a plate with a bunch of pancakes in front of me. She gives me a smile, looks at Magnus and says: „Don't break this one's heart, Bane. He's pretty cute."  
He just grins back at her and mutters something I can't quite understand, being distracted by the delicious smell of the pancakes, but it was either a sexual innuendo or exactly what Lacey wanted to hear because she laughs, throwing her head back in a seductive manner. It must be the latter, though, because she pats his shoulder, says „Good," winks at me and walks away. I watch her and try to behave like any other teenage boy would. Like I _should._

I try to imagine her full lips on mine. I try to get turned on by her full, rich laugh, her girly scent or her long legs. I try to think of the way her low-cut shirt brings out her boobs in all the right ways.

Instead I think _Nice shoes_.

_Nice shoes._

What the hell is wrong with me?! I shake my head, letting out a frustrated sigh, eventually focusing on the food. Magnus flashes me a smile and says, „Enjoy your meal, darling", but I am too busy admiring my breakfast to give him another angry stare. I just nod and then dig in.

And it is the best fucking breakfast I've ever had.

Magnus was right. These _are _the best pancakes I've ever eaten. They are thick and golden, with soft, almost fluffy dough and taste so rich, so perfect I almost moan out loudly. The only thing that keeps me from doing so is that my mouth is, in fact, full of said delicious pancakes. They even make the Latte Macchiato taste acceptable, a fact that surprises me more than anything else since there's not much in this world that I hate as much as Latte Macchiato.

But I drink it. And I actually like it. Maybe that's because of the pancakes, or because they're playing one of my favorite songs, or because this whole place is lovely, or because of Magnus. No, scratch that last one.

I am a guy. I am _not _gay. I am not supposed to enjoy another guy's company that much because _I, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, am not gay. _

Magnus finishes his food, setting his fork down gracefully, licking a bit of scrambled egg off his fingers. Okay, maybe I _am _gay. I definitely do enjoy his company, even when we're just eating in silence, and right now he looks so hot yet so innocent I'm _this _close to jump him and take him here and now. Then he looks up, catches me staring and damn, there's that smirk again.

I find myself choking on the last bits of pancake when he licks his fingers almost seductively, a gesture that would look stupid on anybody else but actually looks not only cool, but super-hot on him. His eyes never leave my face and I start sweating.

_I will spend all day with him. And the night. And the day after that. And the night after too, probably. _

I start to cough when the realization sinks in. I am going to spend so much time with him, it's really just a matter of hours. He will get me, and he knows. He _knows_.


End file.
